Val d’Abondance

Val d’Abondance lies across the mountains from the French (southern) shore of Lake Geneva. As we drove there in our rented "Picasso," I kept thinking about Picasso's little sausage friend and muse named Lump.

At Hotel Plein Soleil, the lovely lady owner of the hotel let me come into the dining room, though I did so inside my transcontinental house, as is my preference.

At dinner, the lovely lady owner visited with us. After soup and steak, and before dessert, she served us a platter of fromage from Val d’Abondance. Mom and Dad wouldn’t give me a taste, but they both said it was wotten waven. It smelled great!

Two chic Italian greyhounds were also staying at the hotel. Their owner looked as stressed out as a pit trader on Black Monday and wouldn’t let them meet me. But I overheard them chatting in the parking lot.

For the night, we had our own apartment. I was a little worried we were moving in, but Mom said we were lucky to have a whole apartment for the night. Apparently in French-speaking countries, you often find a separate room with just a toilet and then another room with the bathtub and sink. I don't understand the logic behind this design, but Mom says it's different and maybe there is no logic. It's cultural.

My question: is there logic to culture? Because what sense does it make for a human to use the toilet in one room that doesn't have a sink and then open the door after using the toilet and walk down a hall to open another door to the room that has the sink?

This is why I prefer my four paws and going potty outside. I don't have to worry about things like this. And the next day, we went on a hike in Val d’Abondance. Wotten waven!